A Fearsome Christmas
by MysticIris
Summary: Bushroot isn't expecting much from Christmas this year, but will his expectations change when three of the other Fearsome Five members join him for the occasion?


**A Fearsome Christmas**

******

Dr. Reginald Bushroot, who was currently wearing his long white lab coat and gloves, moodily busied himself amongst his plants inside his Greenhouse. Though it was Christmas Eve that day, the plant doctor felt absolutely no good cheer for the upcoming holiday. The month of December had been dreadfully cold even by St. Canard standards, some calling it the worst winter they had seen in thirty years. The temperatures had been sitting around zero, topped off with piles of snow and icy winds. Being part plant, his body had been utterly protesting against the frigid climates. He'd had a hard time keeping his normal shade of green, his purple petals were much more subdued and worst of all, his growing abilities were suffering from the lack of sunlight and shortages of plant food.

To make matters worse, his plants were suffering just as much as he was and were requiring a lot of attention. This also meant that he had committed crimes on a much more frequent basis then he normally did. Though Reginald Bushroot, mutant plant scientist was a known villain and now a member of the Fearsome Five, this didn't change his inner qualms about committing crimes or reduce his feelings of loneliness when people screamed or ran at the very sight of him.

_This is the most __**wonderful**__ time of the year. _He thought sarcastically, as he selflessly worked to save one of his wilting rhododendron bushes. _A time of freezing cold temperatures with snow up to your tail feathers, a time for family to ignore you and pretend that their embarrassing plant mutant relative doesn't exist, a time for the goodwill of men to completely disappear as they take one look at you and try to beat you with a rake and the Christmas songs…Who can forget the horrible, repetitive, mind numbing songs that are the exact same songs we heard a __**thousand**__ times last year? _

"Ouch!" He cursed as one of his shears accidently cut into his left leaf, interrupting his morbid mental diatribe. His eyes narrowed in irritation as the leaf grew back much slower than he would have liked.

Cursing again and throwing down his shears, he decided to turn his anger to something that really deserved it. Walking over to his stereo, which he had turned on to listen to the morning news, he bestowed upon it a look of utter loathing. After relentlessly searching for a new station in the wee hours of the morning that wasn't playing Christmas music, he had finally succeeded in finding one single station that was just devoted to news…which had now switched over to Christmas music as the afternoon rolled in.

Glaring at the machine, he forcefully twisted the dial to get rid of the sound of "O Holy Night." The green mutant was then greeted by "Jingle Bells" as his leaf swiftly turned the dial again. Next was "Frosty the Snowman," which was the last thing he wanted to hear considering how much he hated snow. Gritting his teeth now, he turned the dial once more and heard "Little Drummer Boy," a song he knew was destined to stay in his head if he didn't switch stations. The next turn brought "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer," and the next "O Christmas Tree," and the next "Silent Night." He was now turning the dial so violently that he was surprised it hadn't broken off yet. Finally, he stopped turning it when he came upon a station with no sound coming from it. Then, in a moment of irony, "Greensleeves" began pouring out of his speakers.

If his eyes could have turned red to express the red hot fury he was feeling, they would have. Deciding to indulge himself in his anger, he wrapped one of his vine arms around the stereo and crushed it in no time flat. All of the machines insides spewed over his dirt floor, clinking and clattering everywhere.

_Sometimes I forget my own strength. _Bushroot thought as a bit of his Christmas antagonism subsided. _Of course, it doesn't help that everyone else does too. Maybe one of these days, I'll show them all what I'm made of. Especially that arrogant, egotistical crime fighting nuisance Darkwing Duck. _

His dark thoughts comforted him as he stared unseeing at the glass pane roof that was covered in snow. The plant doctor's mood was on an upward rise, until he felt a small drop of cold water splash against his bill. Wiping it off with a scowl, he had barely glanced up before a rush of extremely cold water poured over his entire being. Coughing on his dirt floor, he was considerably more riled up then he had been just a moment before as the perpetrator formed himself into his familiar shape.

"Cold winter weather got you down? Are you craving a bit of good cheer on this frosty—"

"Oh, will you just shut up with the campy eighties slogans already?!" Bushroot snapped as he got up and emphatically shook himself off.

The water canine looked fairly shocked at this response, immediately backing up a step. He had never seen his partner in crime look this angry and he had certainly never spoken to him like that in the past. A frown formed on his fluid features as he crossed his arms, making it clear he wanted an explanation.

"Oh, don't look at me like that." The plant duck sneered. "You always do this. You come into my home unannounced, decide that you have to make some big entrance by either scaring me or soaking me from head to root, then pass it off as okay by coming up with some advertisement jargon on the spot. You just _expect_ me to deal with the fact that I am now soaking wet, cold and altogether more miserable than I was thirty seconds ago. You just _expect _me to be happy to see you."

"Well, forgive the Liquidator for his mistaken assumption that you value his company and enjoy being part of his capers." The liquid dog's ears had risen slightly and his eyes had narrowed into a glare. "The Liquidator had no idea that Reginald Bushroot, the formidable friendly flora, wished to become a solo criminal. All plant mutants should be advised, however, that this course of action would have him competing with the Liquidator and it is well known how far this master of liquids will go to oust the competition. Still," the Liquidator lamented, turning his back on the green duck, "he understands when a contract has run out and his services are no longer necessary. He can assure you that if his presence bothers you, he won't be back again. Enjoy your solitude."

"Hey!" Bushroot called as the ex-salesman began gliding away towards the door. He sighed and placed a hand over his eyes, trying to control his temper. "Come on, cut it out. I don't want to compete with you and I don't want you to leave. There, happy?"

Liquidator seemed to consider him a moment before slowly gliding back towards the other mutant.

"The Liquidator thinks he would be a more satisfied customer if he knew all the reasons behind his partner in crime's foul mood. Or more specifically, before he becomes another unfortunate victim from it." His eyes were on the pieces of stereo on the floor, a small uncertain smile on his lips. "Sources recall that you put in quite an effort to steal that stereo."

"Oh…" He trailed off as that thought had not occurred to him as he had been squeezing the life from the machine. The botanist rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Um…yeah. That's right."

Encouraged that Bushroot was sounding far more like himself then he had been since he arrived, Liquidator decided to try to press for more information.

"So, all inquiring minds want to know the answer to the following question: what has got our normally calm and peaceful plant lover in such a foul mood?" The liquid dog placed a hand under his chin thoughtfully as he threw out his guesses. "Could it be the cold weather? A side affect of claustrophobia from being stuck inside for far too long? Or is it because of an unwanted visit from the dimwitted terror that flaps in the night?"

"None of the above." Bushroot said impatiently. He moved over to one of his lab tables and sat down in the chair next to it. The green mutant rested his head upon his arms wearily and sighed.

"I'm like this because it's Christmas tomorrow and I can't think of another holiday I hate more than Christmas. Heck, I didn't even like it much when I wasn't a mutant. My parents were always much happier to see my sister then me and they made sure to tell me every chance they had that they didn't agree with my career path. Then, they start on how selfish it was for me to choose such a low paying job when I have such a brilliant mind and who was going to help pay for their retirement home and so on and so forth for the entire holiday." He made a face at the memory before continuing. "Now that I'm a mutant, well, you probably heard about last year's Christmas fiasco. I had such a perfect scheme set up too…"

"Ah!" The Liquidator immediately perked up at the thought of a new scheme. "Then, perhaps a little re-strategizing with the Liquidator is the perfect way to spruce up that wilting holiday spirit. After all, this is the gift _getting _season."

The wink as the dog ended his last statement along with his cheery voice forced a small brief smile onto the green mallard's face before he shook his head.

"Thanks, but I'm not interested in committing another Christmas caper. I just want to stay inside my Greenhouse and pretend that tomorrow isn't anything special. At least, that way it can't be any worse then last year."

Bushroot sighed again, this time burying his face in his arms with defeat. Liquidator's ears drooped at the sight, not liking to see his friend like this. A quick snap of his fingers brought the smile back to his face as he came up with an idea.

"Tell you what Reggie. I'm going to make you an offer you can't refuse!"

The plant duck turned his head up on his arms to meet the translucent blue eyes of the other mutant. Liquidator smiled as he recognized the look he was given. It was one of disbelief, mixed with curiosity. He had been given it many times as a former salesman. He had never let down a client or customer on his side of a bargain who had graced him with that expression. The watery canine was not about to do so now.

"An 'offer,'huh? Like what kind?"

"One that will guarantee you have a better Christmas than last year. Why, perhaps the best Christmas ever. Just name your terms and the Liquidator will go above and beyond to match and beat them. This master of liquids is completely at your service!"

"You _really_ think you can do that?" Bushroot questioned with doubt clear in his tone. "That's a pretty hard sell, even for you."

"Well, if I wasn't good at hard sells, I wouldn't have become the corporate head of my own bottling water factory." He stated proudly with his signature smile. "Now, enlighten me. What are your terms for this arrangement?"

"You really don't have to do this…" The plant duck said trying to sound as disinterested as possible to dissuade the ex-salesman from going through with his promise.

"Reggie, the Liquidator loves a challenge and there haven't been too many as of late. Really, I insist."

"Okay," he muttered morosely, "my only condition is that I don't end up spending Christmas in a jail cell by myself this year. If you can manage that, then you will have already made this wretched holiday infinitely better."

"Is that all?" The Liquidator blinked in surprise. "There must be more."

"That's the only thing I really care about. Just use your imagination for the rest."

"Well, then," Liquidator announced gliding away from him, "the Liquidator is off to take care of the shipping, handing and fulfillment of his current contract. But never fear, you are guaranteed to be a satisfied customer when he returns on Christmas morning!"

"And—" The botanist shouted, thinking of something as the Liquidator glided out of sight. "No crimes! I don't want to do any heists tomorrow."

He saw the dog give him a thumbs up before disappearing completely. Bushroot got up from the table and walked back to his shears, shaking his head all the while.

_What have I gotten myself into?_ He thought as he put his remaining energy back into maintaining his plants.

******

Bushroot was startled awake on Christmas morning by a rapping against the glass panes of his Greenhouse. He had fully intended to sleep in until as far into the morning as possible and wasn't happy with his sudden awakening. Thinking it was probably that dumb woodpecker again; he angrily got out of his makeshift bed and stormed to the door. Ready to give the bird a piece of his mind, he stopped abruptly when he recognized Liquidator knocking outside of his Greenhouse.

_Oh right!_ He thought, hitting himself over the head for his stupidity. _The offer he made me yesterday. I guess he still plans to go through with it. I hope he didn't go too over the top…_

Bracing himself for what he was about to see, he opened his double doors and put the friendliest expression he could on his face. There was the watery canine grinning from ear to ear with what tons of large cardboard boxes behind him.

"Good morning Reggie. The Liquidator brings both good tidings and delightful decorations with him on this fine Christmas morning."

Bushroot expression must have betrayed his surprise because he could hear the watery villain chuckle beside him. There were so many boxes piled up behind ex-salesman that the plant mutant figured he must have stolen decorations from half of St. Canard.

"Liquidator, what **is** all this?"

"All the essentials, of course! Lights, ornaments, tinsel, wreaths, and all the bright, gaudy, glowing front lawn decorations you could want."

"I thought I told you no crimes." He replied with a frown.

"You told me that **you** didn't want to commit any crimes." The dog replied offhandedly. "That doesn't mean that I couldn't. Now," he interrupted before the botanist could say anything more on this technicality, "can I come in? It may be warmer than it has been, but it still isn't above freezing and you know how your favorite partner in crime feels about freezing."

It was then that Bushroot noted the sorry state of the water criminal who had drug all these boxes up here in the snow and cold weather. He was lurching sluggishly instead of gliding gracefully as he normally did and his voice sounded a little funny, probably because his nose kept freezing over. All of his earlier snippiness evaporated instantly as he let Liquidator inside to thaw and insisted that he and his plants could take care of the rest. A few minutes later, all the boxes were in and the liquid canine was looking much more like his normal bubbly self.

"So, what now?"

"Now we can decorate all the trees in this Greenhouse." The ex-salesman told him with excitement. "Market research shows that you have plenty of trees in here."

"Well, I do," the green duck informed him, "but only two of them are the evergreen variety you're looking for. The others aren't normally used for Christmas decorations."

"Since when are two mutant villains known for doing what's normal or following unwritten rules?" He retorted with a grin. "All upper management personnel will tell you that doing what you want to do is far more satisfying then doing what someone else tells you to do. Do **you** have any problem with decorating the other trees?"

"No." Bushroot replied indifferently.

"Great! Then, don't delay, act now!"

The boisterous water dog threw a box in his direction and he caught in with a yelp. For the rest of the morning and well into the afternoon, the pair dedicated their time to making the Greenhouse a little more festive for the occasion. Though the mutant scientist wasn't really sure he was up to doing all this decorating, he found himself enjoying it more and more as all of the lights and ornaments starting coming together.

It was late afternoon by the time the two had finished and Bushroot took a moment to get off his roots and sit down. He couldn't help but admire their handiwork since the Greenhouse was so full of flashing lights, fancy ornaments and lit decorations that he was surprised there was enough power generating in the place to keep them all working.

"So? The eager businessman wishes to know what his consumer report is as of now?"

"Hmm, I don't know about that," Bushroot replied with a smile. "But I was just thinking I'm glad that I don't pay for utilities anymore. I can't imagine what all this would cost me."

Liquidator chortled at this and startled rustling items in a nearby box. His liquid hands grasped some Christmas mugs and a package of butter rum. Setting them down, he grinned at the other mutant even as he looked skeptically at the beverage.

"How about we celebrate our free room, board and utilities with a nice glass of butter rum?"

"Have you had anything alcohol related since you've changed?" Bushroot couldn't help but ask, his eyebrows rose so high they blended in with his hair.

"Yes, here and there. As long as I pace myself it's fine. I'm sure it'll be the same for you. Would you like one?"

"Um,…oh what the heck. Sure, why not?"

While the dog busied himself with creating the drinks, Bushroot wandered over to some of the boxes and noticed they weren't completely empty. There were still half way full with what looked like cookies, candies and other treats. Puzzled, he turned back to the ex-salesman who had just finished making buttered rum.

"Hey, Likky, what's all this for?" He pointed down at the box full of goodies. "I mean, okay, maybe we can both drink a little, but I know you don't eat and I don't eat anything but plant food anymore."

"Oh, that stuff?" Liquidator remarked nonchalantly as he pressed a mug into his leafy hands. "For now, they're just some makeshift packing peanuts to hide the real surprise underneath."

Putting down his mug, he took out the packages of food and stacked them off to the side. He then shoot back up so quickly once he had found what he was looking for that he almost caused Bushroot to spill his drink on the Greenhouse floor. With a bit of flash, he twirled around and presented the plant mutant with a wrapped package.

"Ta-dah! One very special Christmas gift sure to brighten your mood courtesy of the one and only Liquidator."

Shaking his head a little at the antics, he happily accepted the bulky package and hastily opened it. He looked down at his Christmas gift with a mixture of gratitude and embarrassment. It was a brand new stereo, better than the one he had destroyed yesterday when he had his fit.

"Wow, Likky thank you. I'm not sure I deserve an upgraded stereo though, after how I acted yesterday." He remarked as his cheeks went a little greener at the memory.

"Nonsense." Liquidator said holding up a hand. "As my one and only partner in crime, you deserve nothing but the best."

"I wish I had gone out and gotten you something." Bushroot said regretfully. "I've been so caught up in being miserable that—"

"Forget about it. The Liquidator wasn't expecting anything, especially since he was fulfilling a contract." The ex-salesman graced him with a wink as his voice took on a more sly tone. "Besides, you'll be doing more of your fair share of the work when you open up your delightful home to your guests."

"'Guests?'"

"Of course, you didn't think it'd just be you and me here when we spent all this time making things look festive, did you?"

"B-but who did you invite?"

"You'll see."

About to press the issue further, he stopped when all of the lights in his Greenhouse suddenly flared. Covering his eyes, he waited until the lights went back to normal, then blinked his eyes until the little spots were gone. It was then that a constant tinkering noise met his ears and he turned to Liquidator in confusion.

"Do you hear that?"

"Oh, that. It's just the sound of another one of your Christmas presents."

Before Bushroot could say anything else, he heard the doors to his Greenhouse open. A familiar nasally voice called out to him from where he was standing by the entrance.

"Hey, Bushy, where's your thermostat?"

"Megavolt? What are you doing here?" He asked as he ran over to where the electric rat was standing.

"He invited me." Megavolt pointed to Liquidator, who gave a little bow. "He also told me if I was going to come to this party of yours, I had to get you something. So, where's your thermostat?"

The plant mutant was a little confused as to why he wanted to know this, but he pointed to device that was just a few feet away from the entrance. The electric rat went over and did a bit of tweaking, then turned the heat up about five degrees.

"There," Megavolt said with pride, "that should do it. Does it feel a lot warmer in here to you?"

Bushroot was surprised by the question, but as he thought about it he realized that it was a lot warmer then it had been an hour ago. He also noticed that the generator for his Greenhouse was much quieter then it normally was.

"Yeah, it is. What did you do?"

"Yesterday, Liquidator came by and asked me if I had an upgraded power generator. I said I didn't, but I knew that one of St. Canard's seven luxury hotels was getting a new one because there's wasn't able to keep up with this cold snap. So, he and I stole it from them and I've just spent the last hour or so installing it outside."

"What did I say about crimes?" Bushroot said as he looked between the two of them.

"That **you** didn't want to commit one and **you** still haven't." Liquidator replied with a grin.

"Anyway," the plant scientist continued, deciding not to argue, "thank you for this. My plants and I really appreciate this."

"Just take good care of him for me, will ya?" The electric rodent said with affection. "He's a nice model and I don't want to see him mistreated. If you need instructions on how to take care of the generator, check out the enclosed instruction book."

Megavolt handed Bushroot the book, then paused, looking a tad perplexed.

"Do you guys ever get that strange déjà vu feeling?"

Both of them just stared at him, wondering where that had come from. Then again, with his fried memory, they were used to him saying some pretty strange things.

"Oh, forget it." He muttered frustrated.

"Poor memory got you down? How bout replacing your doubts with a nice sugar high, courtesy of the Liquidator."

Liquidator then presented him with several different packages of cookies and candies. Megavolt took a package of snicker doodles and happily started chewing one when he looked around at his surroundings and gasped.

"Look at all those precious luminaries!" He was stunned by the amount of lights that were strung about the place. His awe quickly turned to rage as he turned on his two fellow villains with his plug hat sparking. "This-This is slavery! How could you do this to these poor innocent lights?"

Bushroot immediately backed away from the sparking rodent, but Liquidator stood his ground, calm as always.

"Ah, but you misunderstand. These lights are your Christmas present. We are merely borrowing them for one day and then they are all yours to keep and I'll even throw in Reggie's old generator free of charge."

The rodent's mood went from anger to exuberance in a flash as he clasped his hands together by his face and admired the lights.

"Really?" He asked sounding almost amorous. "Gee, that's swell. They'll be so happy to go home with me."

Both Liquidator and Bushroot had to hold back laughter at this behavior. Megavolt certainly had his odd quirks and Bushroot was glad that Liquidator could handle them along with his mood swings.

The rat went back to nibbling on his cookie when he started staring at the two of them scratching his head. Both of them knew that this meant he was trying to remember what he had wanted to tell them. Finally, he gave a triumphant snap of his fingers and spoke:

"You invited Quackerjack, didn't you?" Megavolt asked sounding a tad worried. "Listen, I just thought I should warn you both before he arrives. Quacky really gets into this holiday, well, obviously because it's a great time to be making toys, but also because he loves Egg Nog."

When the other two villains did nothing but share bemused glances, he sighed and became more specific.

"Spiked Egg Nog."

"…Oh…" Bushroot didn't sound thrilled with this revelation.

"I've been trying to tell him to lay off the stuff, but he just tells me he needs it to complete his projects." Megavolt sighed. "He goes through a carton each day, at the very least."

"Wow," Liquidator blinked. "Alcoholics Anonymous everywhere would agree that that's an impressive feat and try to sell him a membership."

"That's not the only thing he's been up to. He's been spending sleepless nights trying to create the perfect toy soldier. The newest one is supposed to shoot real bullets and lasers and you know how unpredictable his toys can be at times."

"Well, he's not planning to bring these things to my Greenhouse, is he?" Bushroot inquired anxiously.

"Bring what?"

The incredibly jovial voice made all of them jump and turn to see that Quackerjack had suddenly appeared in their midst. All of them immediately noticed that his eyes beadier than normal and that he seemed to be unable to keep from bouncing were he stood. The faint smell of alcohol wafted towards them as he grabbed each of them and pulled them into a hug.

"Hi Bushy!" He exclaimed, almost suffocating the plant mutant in his tight squeeze.

"Hi Megsy!"

"'Megsy?'" The rodent repeated in disgust. "How many times have I told you I don't want to be called—"

"Hi Likky!" The jester said, ignoring the disgruntled Megavolt and somehow managing to embrace the watery dog.

"Alright, I know you've been anticipating my arrival and I'm sorry to keep you waiting, but there were soooo many toys I wanted to bring and I had to find a sack to fit them all in."

It was then that the other three villains noticed the large brown sack that had mysteriously appeared in the Greenhouse. It was almost as tall as the jester and all of them eyed it cautiously as he untied the rope at the top. Tons of Quackerjack Toys spilled out of the bag onto the floor, including razor toothed bears, toy soldiers with live ammunition and fairy dolls that turned into goblins with sharp teeth once squeezed.

The toymaker frantically searched among them until he pulled out a small finger trap.

"Likky, come here! I want you to try this!"

Liquidator glided forward, though not before casting an uncertain glance at the other two.

"This is my newest improvement on an old design. Go on, put your finger into it."

The watery villain did as he was instructed with a sigh. As soon as he did, a timer reading five seconds at the top started counting down. Quackerjack had already pulled his own finger out of the trap and was smiling gleefully at him, obviously privy to some joke he wasn't getting.

"What—"

BANG!

The timer had reached zero and the finger trap had exploded, destroying the ex-salesman's watery finger in the process. Megavolt slapped a hand over his goggles, while Bushroot looked as though he might faint. The ex-salesman reformed his finger easily enough before glaring at the jester who was now giggling madly.

"Wasn't that fun?" He bounced over to Liquidator and threw an arm around him, not waiting for his response. "The name 'finger trap' is so misleading. There so easy to get out of and there's no real trap involved. That's why I, being the toy creating genius that I am, made an exploding finger trap. Now, it really is a trap and which kid wouldn't like a game where they have to go against the clock to avoid an explosion. It's _edgy_ and that's what the kids want these days."

"Quacky," Megavolt asked weakly, "how much Egg Nog have you had today?"

"I've only had two cartons full today."

"Only?"

"Well, you know what I always say. There's only thirty-one noggie days."

"Didn't you steal that from somewhere?" Megavolt accused, indignation clear in his voice.

"So, what if I did?" Quackerjack retorted with a raspberry. "I'm a villain, remember? Now, Bushy, since Megsy's being a grumpy puss, I'll let you get in on the fun next!"

He released his hold on Liquidator and started digging through his brown sack. Bushroot gulped as the toymaker pulled out his latest crazy invention.

"What do you think of this design?"

Bushroot warily picked up the toy and examined it. It was what looked like a wooden doll that was naked except for a blue cape with yellow trim and a matching blue hat with a yellow swirl in the front. The doll had two orange wood shavings for a nose, orange eyes and brown boots. The plant mutant was about to use the term "unique" to describe it when the doll's arms abruptly pulled back at the elbow and starting firing bullets at an alarming speed. He dropped the doll with a yelp and both Liquidator and Megavolt dodged off to the side to avoid being hit by the ammunition.

"Isn't he **wonderful**?" Quackerjack inquired, picking the doll up and rubbing it against his face with a drunken swoon. "The elbow cannon is the perfect hidden weapon, not to mention his wrist pea shooter and the double hand lasers!"

He gave the doll a kiss on the cheek before holding him out for the others to see with an exuberant grin on his face.

"Want me to show ya how they work?"

"NO!" Everyone's terrified voices shouted in unison.

Quackerjack's grin disappeared quicker than the Egg Nog in his fridge, only to be replaced with a hurt expression, mixed with indignation. Liquidator, seeing the potential for trouble, recovered first and glided over to the jester.

"Do not misunderstand, my good friend." Liquidator had an appeasing tone of voice as he wrapped his arm around the jester. "Marketing research shows that all villains admire Quackerjack toys for their deadly innovation. That being said, all realtors agree that a villain's home is not the best place to showcase one's newest merchandise. Perhaps a special showcase for every villain's most hated crime fighter would be more appealing?"

"Yes, that does sound pretty good." Quackerjack admitted, his buck toothed grin returning. "I gotta hand it to you, Likky, you really know how to appreciate a fine product."

"Product assessment and evaluation is one of the Liquidator's many specialties." He replied glibly. "Now, about the fulfillment of our bargain…"

"Oh, that's right!" Quackerjack said with a snap of his fingers. "Don't worry, I'm bringing you all something that should be arriving here in the next few minutes or so."

The other three villains exchanged suspicious glances as the toymaker pulled out a pogo stick—from where no one knew—and began wildly bouncing all over the Greenhouse much to the dismay of the building's owner.

"Ack, don't bounce so high!" Bushroot shouted go after the crazed mallard in a worried frenzy. "Watch where you land! Ohhhh, please don't break anything!"

Quackerjack, however, was having too much fun bouncing around to notice his friend's shouts. It was only when Liquidator appeared out of nowhere in an attempt to stop him that he lost control of his pogo stick and landed flat on his back. Still laughing like a maniac even after his fall, Megavolt gave him a short zap to get his attention back, kneeling down beside him.

"Wait a second, Quacky. What do you mean your present is going to arrive in a few minutes? Why didn't you just bring them with you?"

"Because I haven't got them yet, silly!" Quackerjack exclaimed playfully pulling back Megavolt's goggles. He released them with an audible snap accompanied by a yelp from the electric rodent.

"You see," he started before any of them can ask, "I'm a toymaker and a fine one if I do say so myself, but there are some nasty people in St. Canard who can't stand to compete with my line of superior products. In fact, there are other even less sensible people who seem to think my toys are dangerous. What nonsense!"

The jester crossed his arms in a childish pout, obviously expecting his fellow villains to agree.

"Yes, complete nonsense, right." Bushroot replied as quickly as he could. "So, what does this have to do with our gifts?"

"Well, Bushy, since I have been blocked from selling my toys like everyone else and thus kept away from my rightfully earned profits, I decided to do a bit of, oh shall we say, _restocking_."

An incredibly devious grin had spread across his face as he outlined his plan, making the other three a little nervous. They'd had enough experience with the jester to know that particular expression meant trouble.

"Naturally, I replaced the inferior toys with my own superior ones and have waited until all the stores close. Every single toy store in this city is now filled with my toys. There's loads of loot to be had from all the shopping done on the day before Christmas and all I had to do was activate my toy soldiers to shoot open the cash registers and carry out the cash. Of course, this is the gift getting season and I'm happy to share some of my gift with all of you. Long story short, **that's** why you're gifts aren't here yet."

All of them gaped as the jester as he finished his tale. Before any of them could say anything however, they heard a bang, followed by the sound of glass clinking to the floor. A long line of toy soldiers were now walking into the Greenhouse, each carrying far more money then they would have ever thought possible.

"Quackerjack—" Bushroot began, trying hard to control his irritation.

"I know this is unusually selfless of me, but it is the holiday season, so what the heck."

"Quackerjack—" Bushroot repeated through gritted teeth.

"Now, now, Bushy there's no need to thank me."

"'Thank you?'" Bushroot repeated in disbelief. "Haven't you considered the consequences of your plan?" The toymaker merely shook his head, making the bells on his hat jingle. "You've got an entire army of toy soldiers and who knows what else stealing money from cash registers all over town."

"So?"

"_So_, there all heading to the same location, namely **my** Greenhouse, which means Darkwing Duck is going to being coming here any minute now!"

"Oh, what are you worrying about him for Bushy? I mean, there's four of us and one of him. Not to mention even he can't be that much of a loser to be crime fighting on Christmas day."

"I think you're giving him too much credit…" The plant duck retorted with a sigh. He had just come down with a headache and was rubbing his temples.

"In any case, every frugal criminal would be wise to find a place to store his earnings." Liquidator cut in, placing a comforting hand on Bushroot's shoulder. "No need to be caught with our pants down when we have the advantage."

"That's only a problem for two of us." Quackerjack informed him with a grin.

"He's got you there." Megavolt agreed with a matching smile.

"Pardon my inaccurate pun," Liquidator answered them curtly. "Let me replace it with a more accurate one: time is money. Our time before Darkwing arrives is limited, so all business savvy criminals should begin hiding their loot—now!"

In a flash, all four of them worked to evenly divide up their earnings and hide them in various nooks and crannies around the Greenhouse. A substantial amount of money had been hidden for each villain before the signature purple smoke exploded from the ceiling, indicating that their unwanted guest had arrived.

"I am the terror that flaps in the night! I am the sticking gear that breaks your toy! I am Darkwing Duck!"

The mallard in question was standing on one of the open windows with his arms spread so that his cape was stretched to its full length.

"All right, you crazed Christmas criminal culprits, the jig is up! I've followed your little accomplices right to you, so you'd better hand over all of your stolen loot or else."

"Or else what?" Quackerjack asked mockingly, twisting the ends of his hat underneath his chin.

"Or else prepare to suck gas evil doers!"

The masked mallard grabbed a line of Christmas lights and attempted to swing down towards the four villains Tarzan style. As the super hero raised his gas gun, the toymaker raised his arm and pointed at his target.

"Troops!" He shouted addressing his toy soldiers. "Attack!"

All at once the toy soldiers fired, not aiming for Darkwing, but for the string of lights that he was swinging from. The ammunition did the trick and the wire snapped just above the crime fighters fingers.

"Uh-oh." All the villains heard their nemesis say before he did a belly flop onto the dirt floor of the Greenhouse.

"Ouch…" Darkwing wheezed with the wind being knocked out of him. All four villains burst into hearty snickers as they looked at their prone opponent.

"Nine out of ten surveys agree that threatening your friendly neighborhood criminals with a gas gun is one hundred percent un-Christmas like."

"Maybe there's something we could do to get him more into the Christmas spirit." Megavolt cackled evilly. "Say, Bushy, couldn't you use an angel for one of your trees?"

The other three looked over at him as he said this and each put on their best evil grin.

"I think that's a great idea Megavolt."

Silently communicating to his plants, an evergreen tree made its way over to them and picked up the purple clad menace. Lifting him up to the tallest branch, it tied him up with Christmas lights so that he was firmly stuck at the top of the tree. Darkwing, humiliated beyond belief, began throwing a fit, shouting insults at them from where he was tied. This only served to amuse all of the villains below him.

"Ah, music to my ears." Quackerjack gloated happily. "Come, my friends, let's go back to distributing our profits."

They all turned away from the sputtering mallard, still laughing at his predicament. The last of the toy soldiers had filed in and there was now so much loot spread out in the four corners of the Greenhouse that the flora that inhabited it were almost drowning in it. It was then that they convened back at the evergreen tree was stationed to discuss what they should do with Darkwing—only to find that their victim had escaped.

"Where—?" Bushroot started to ask, but he was interrupted as an all too familiar voice shouted throughout the Greenhouse.

"Haven't you learned? No one can keep Darkwing Duck tied up for long!"

The masked mallard jumped out in front of them and fired his gas gun. Megavolt was the first to react and shot electricity from his fingers to counter it, causing the gas to explode, temporarily blocking the villains' vision. Wasting no time, Darkwing jumped through the smog and launched a string of Christmas lights at Megavolt. The lights quickly wrapped around him and before he could free himself, Darkwing pulled the lights towards him to unwind him. Spinning out of control, he only had time for a small cry before he ran right into Liquidator. The electric rodent violently shorted out and Liquidator's watery form exploded, dropping into a puddle. Both of the villains fainted straight away, leaving only Bushroot and Quackerjack to continue the fight.

"You ready to surrender, you pair of perfidious perpetrators?"

"We could," Quackerjack said pulling out his wooden doll with the blue cape. He activated the double hand lasers and allowed them to charge. "But then you'd miss out on play time. Wouldn't want to do that, now would you?"

While Quackerjack was talking, Bushroot used the time to give orders to some of his plant life and the nearby group of daisies grew frantically and wrapped themselves around the unsuspecting crime fighter. Darkwing struggled with his bonds as the jester took the time to aim his new toy as it finished charging.

"Excellent work, Bushy. Now Darkwing," he said with a buck toothed grin on his beak, "it's play time!"

Quackerjack was about to fire when Darkwing pulled a knife from his cape and cut himself free of the daisies. Firing his gas gun quickly, he forced the toymaker to jump off to the side to dodge the canister. As he did so, his doll fired its lasers, not coming anywhere near their prospective target. Instead, one of them made a direct hit with Bushroot, who was too preoccupied with covering his ears from the screams of the dying flowers to see his peril. The laser made a direct hit, launching him backwards into the evergreen tree. Hitting it with a loud thud, he collapsed unconscious at its base.

The jester cursed and attempted to recharge his toy, only to have a flying kick hit him straight in the bill and send him tumbling backwards. His doll flew from his hands and before he could reach it, a hard blow to the head took him from consciousness.

Darkwing brushed his hands off and smugly admired his handiwork.

"Yep, yep, yep. Just one more fiendish plot triumphantly foiled by Darkwing Duck."

The police arrived at the scene ten minutes later, only to find the unconscious forms of Megavolt, Bushroot and Quackerjack, along with a bottle containing the unconscious Liquidator. Not wanting to give the villains a chance to wake up, the police hastily gathered the villains, threw them in an armored van and raced off to the police station.

******

Within the hour, all four villains had woken up to find themselves not in the cheerful Greenhouse, but inside a dank prison cell. Each of them cursed Darkwing in turn as they found different places to occupy in the cramped little square that was their room.

"Well, Likky, looks like you didn't fulfill the requirements of your contract this time." Bushroot informed him as he leaned against the metal bars with his arms crossed.

"Inquiring minds wish to know what you mean?"

"One of my two terms was that I didn't end up spending my Christmas in jail and look where we are." He waved his arm at their current surroundings before crossing it again.

"Ah, ah, ah." Liquidator said in a tut-tut fashion waving his finger back and forth with each word. "Read the fine print, Reggie my friend. You're exact wording of the term was that you didn't want to spend Christmas in jail by **yourself** this year. Since you are clearly not alone, the contract still stands."

A triumphant smirk spread across his face as he watched the dumbfounded expression on the other mutant's face, knowing that what was said had been true. Megavolt and Quackerjack both joined Liquidator in grinning at Bushroot as he placed a leafy hand over his eyes and shook his head.

"You really are evil, you know that?"

"I am a villain, Reggie. It's an essential part of the job description."

Even in the circumstances, Bushroot couldn't help smiling about that.

"Oh, cheer up, Bushy." Megavolt said from his prone position on the hard wooden slab that was considered a bed. "There are a lot worse ways to spend Christmas. At least here, you have good company and all the food is free. Most normal citizens don't even get that luxury."

"And," Quackerjack flipped backwards once away from the back wall, his bells jingling madly. "we can leave this place whenever we want to. All we need is a little destructive creativity and we're outta here!"

"'Destructive creativity?" Bushroot repeated nervously.

"Of course! It's what I specialize in." Quackerjack was grinning his widest buck toothed grin. "Soooo, since it's your party Bushy, I'll let you decide when you want to leave."

"Really?" The plant duck asked in disbelief walking up to the jester. "So, If I want to leave right now, we could?"

"Do you?"

"Um, yes."

"Alright then! You might want to step back."

"What do you—AHHHHHHH!"

An explosion shook the entire cell, scaring the mutant scientist half to death. He leaped into the air away from the blast and landed in Liquidator's arms. The liquid dog, being used to the duck's frequent scares, caught him with ease and was fine with him shivering in his arms for a moment.

Megavolt, Bushroot and Liquidator all stared in awe at the remains of the stone wall. All that was left were a few pieces of rubble lying across the floor. A whirring noise caught their attention and they saw a large toy plane come in their direction with both doors open underneath.

"My latest, greatest toy: the real bomber plane!" He showcased proudly. They could all now see him holding a small remote control that he'd hidden in his Mr. Banana Brain doll. "Complete with live ammunition and, you guessed it, bomb dropping capabilities. Sometimes I marvel at my own genius."

"Gotta admit, you've outdone yourself this time Quacky." Megavolt told him eyeing the plane warily as it zipped around the cell. He, more than any of them, had experience with Quackerjack's brand of toys and while they were extremely useful at times, they were also completely unpredictable. Kind of like the jester himself.

"Thank you, you're too kind." The toymaker proclaimed with a bow. Now, how bout we all get out of here? The food may be free, but there's no Egg Nog and that's a crying shame to have Christmas with no Egg Nog."

All of them were about to say he'd had more than enough Egg Nog for one Christmas when they heard running footsteps coming towards them. The guards would be there shortly to investigate the explosion.

"Everybody knows that when making an escape, there's no time like the present." Liquidator announced before looking down at the plant duck in his arms. "Sources also say the coast is clear and it is safe to get down."

"Oh," Bushroot murmured sheepishly, realizing he was still clinging to the dog. He jumped down immediately and mumbled a quick apology.

"Come on guys, hurry up!" Quackerjack whined impatiently. "Last one back to Bushroot's Greenhouse is a rotten egg."

He childishly blew a raspberry at them as he activated the springs in his clown shoes and bounced off. Megavolt put his hands on his hips, while Liquidator and Bushroot both exchanged bemused glances.

"He's such a kid sometimes." Megavolt sighed as he ran to catch up.

Liquidator and Bushroot followed close behind, but the watery canine hung back, a question in his mind.

"So, Reggie, are you having a good Christmas?" Liquidator questioned watching his partner in crime's expression with his fluid eyes. "Consumer feedback is always appreciated."

"Oh, well…" The plant doctor considered before a grin reached his beak. "It's certainly been unforgettable. A bit stressful, unpredictable and crazy, but also pretty enjoyable. It's a lot better than last year, that's for sure. So, thanks for doing this for me."

"Anytime." Liquidator winked and seemed happy with the response. "The Liquidator always aims to please."

The four villains made it back to Bushroot's Greenhouse without a hitch. For the remainder of the evening, they enjoyed each others company, even with the occasional prank from Quackerjack. To their great pleasure, some of the loot that Quackerjack's toys had stolen had still remained in their hiding places and each of them had a nice laugh about the incompetence of Darkwing Duck.

Though it was reported that a prison break had occurred at the St. Canard jail, it did not reach the ears of the terror of the night. Gosalyn and Launchpad both wanted him home for Christmas and stealthily kept the news from him. Even superheroes needed to spend Christmas with their family, or so they figured, and crime fighting could wait one more night. Thus, in the city of St. Canard all was well on Christmas day, for heroes and villains alike.

******

Authors Note: I know this is a little late, but Merry Christmas to you all! I hope you enjoyed the story. If you're at all curious about some of the jokes in this story, I made a reference section down below. Thanks for reading!

**References**

1. "Gift Getting Season."—A phrase taken from Lucy Van Pelt from the Charlie Brown series.

2. "…check out the enclosed instruction book."—This was taken from the old video game "Hotel Mario," where it tells you if you need help then just read the enclosed instruction book.

3. "There's only thirty-one noggie days."—This phrase is from "The Simpsons" and it's said by Homer Simpson when he opens his fridge and there's nothing but Egg Nog inside. This is why Megavolt scolds Quackerjack for stealing it because he is voiced by Dan Castellaneta, the same voice actor as Homer Simpson.

4. Quackerjack's newest wooden doll—The wooden doll with the blue cape and hat, with orange eyes and brown boots that shoots lasers is none other than Geno from Super Mario RPG.

To anyone who read this and got all the references without my help, extra Christmas cookies for you!


End file.
